


Sticky and Sweet

by icarusinflight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Dean Winchester Cooks, Hand Jobs, M/M, Not set in the SPN verse is basically what im saying here okay, Or he tries to but his boyf is a little distracting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: Dean just wants to make his boyfriend breakfast in bed.Cas has other ideas.





	Sticky and Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [surlybobbies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/gifts).



> written for Surleybobbies/surleyboobies.  
> You're such a champ and a delight to have on the server! I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Many thanks to [Tanja](https://nera-solani.tumblr.com/) for the last minute emergency beta. What a star!
> 
> Title chosen with help from the amazing Maskofcognito and OsirisApollo. Safe to say I am no longer taking this title thing seriously.

Dean wakes up to the feel of an unfamiliar bed, a warm body brushing up against his, and an arm lying over his stomach.

As far as ways to wake up go, this is a good one and Dean takes a moment to stretch out, arching up his back. He feels the lengthening of his spine, and hears and feels a few satisfying cracks and pop. He watches as the arm moves with his stomach as he stretches, and when he drops his body back to the mattress, satisfied, he turns his attention to the person the arm belongs to. 

Dean takes a moment to appreciate the naked body beside him, taking in the long lines of Cas’s body, the bed head hair that Dean had a hand in making.  _ Fuck _ he's gorgeous.

Dean wants nothing more than to stay here enveloped in Cas’s warmth and appreciate the view. 

The insistent pressure in his bladder, however, says otherwise.

He's gone to sleep and woken up with Cas enough times to know a few things. One — Cas is handsy in his sleep, and Dean doesn't mind that. Two — he rarely gets out of bed before 10am if he can help it. And three — Cas sleeps like the dead. Despite this, Dean is careful as he removes Cas’s arm, slipping out of bed, tugging on a pair of pajama shorts which are definitely not his own, and padding softly to the bathroom. 

Cas may enjoy a sleep in, but Dean can never get back to sleep, so once he’s relieved himself he takes the opportunity to look round Cas’s apartment. Dean’s never spent the night at Cas’s, they take turns on dates, and while Dean always has Cas over to his for dinner, Cas always takes them out, and so far they’ve always ended back to Dean’s for the night. 

Dean has always assumed this was because Cas’s place was a dump, or he had annoying roommates (and Dean’s certainly had his fair share of those). That’s certainly not the case though — the apartment is amazing, and apart from the fact that Cas seems to have a penchant for throwing his clothes on the floor, it’s impeccably kept.

Dean’s wandering leads him to the kitchen where he lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Jeez Cas,” he says even though the other man isn’t there to hear it. “You’ve got this kitchen and we always go out?”

The kitchen is amazing, Dean’s never seen one so nice. His own kitchen has been passed down through college student after college student. The right most burner smells when you use it, the oven turns off randomly, and the kitchen cupboards are at a height where Dean is perpetually hitting his head on them. Dean puts up with it because he can’t afford anything better and he does  _ love to cook _ — has been cooking as long as he can remember, family recipes from Mom’s notebook, Bobby and Karen’s kitchen and Missouri’s instructions (Missouri believes if you write down a recipe it loses some of its power — and Dean knows better than to go against Missouri). Dean finds cooking calming, and he gets a peace of mind when he’s in the kitchen. It’s even better when he is able to cook for someone else, and he loves to share the things he’s made with the people he cares for. 

Taking another look around the room, Dean makes up his mind. He’s going to take advantage of the amazing kitchen in front of him.

A cursory look through the pantry finds that fully stocked — which is more than Dean can say for the fridge. There’s milk, eggs and butter though, and that’s enough for what Dean wants.

Dean makes up the batter, dry ingredients together first, wet ingredients next, and then combines them. When the consistency is right, he adds the vanilla essence, just like Missouri taught him. He turns on the burner (there’s resulting smell — Dean’s pleased at that), and starts to heat up the frying pan. He adds an ample helping of butter, rotating pan to coat surface. There’s just a hint of a sizzle when Dean adds the batter to the pan — perfect.

“Dean.”

Dean jumps at the words, and he pokes the pancake with his spatula, wrinkling the previously perfect skin. He frowns down at the irreparable damage he’s inflicted.

A hand comes to rest at his bare hip, and a warm body slips in behind his, chest warm against Dean’s back.

“I wasn’t expecting you out of bed so early.” Dean allows himself to lean back into the warm body, but doesn’t take his eyes off the pancake cooking in front of him, bubbles just coming to the surface.

“I woke up alone,” Cas says, his chin resting on Dean’s shoulder. “Are you making pancakes?”

Cas’s hand reaches towards the bowl, but Dean sees the movement coming a mile away, and Dean’s fingers reach it first. Years of protecting food from Sammy have honed his reactions, and Dean slides the batter smoothly just out of Cas’s reach.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Cas says, in a tone which sounds suspiciously like a whine. “And here I thought you were being nice to me.”

Cas’s mouth turns inwards, lips brushing at Dean’s neck before Dean feels teeth pulling at the skin. Dean’s hips jerk forward at that, pleasure and pain forcing a groan out of his lips, and his eyes finally fall closed, pancakes momentarily forgotten.

Cas continues to roll Dean’s skin between his lips, in a way that Dean knows will leave a mark — he looks forward to it. Cas’s fingers feel like fire against his skin, tracing the outline of Dean’s hipbones and Dean wants those fingers, wants to feel them against him, his cock is already thickening, and his hips stutter again with his desire.

“Don’t forget about the pancake,” Cas whispers in his ear, and it takes Dean a moment to figure out the words, a moment more for them to make sense and then his eyes fly open, landing on the frying pan — the pancake is all bubbles, and just starting to brown. He flips the pancake quickly, and Dean’s relieved to see it’s still salvageable. Still it’s not the perfect pancake that Dean would like to be giving to his boyfriend, and Dean resolves to keep that one to himself.

“Leave it,” Cas whispers in his ear, voice dropping low and shooting straight to Dean’s groin. “I’m not hungry for pancakes.”

Dean bites his lips to contain the groan, hand already fumbling to turn off the burner. Then he’s turning, body pressing against Cas with every movement and Dean has barely finished turning before Cas’s mouth is back on his.

Dean will never get tired of kissing Cas. He loves kissing, has always loved it, but kissing Cas is something else — is  _ better _ . Kissing Cas is one of his favourite things to do, and Dean thinks that he would do it all day if he could. Cas’s hand moves to grip Dean’s cock through the pajamas and  _ oh yes _ — there’s also that.

The pants offer a minor barrier at most, and Dean can feel Cas’s fingers, can feel as Cas grips and squeezes around him, and he arches his back in response, pushing into the pressure.

Dean wants more. “Cas,” he gasps. “Cas, please.”

Cas’s hand slips underneath the elastic band of the pants, pushing the pants down to rest at his thighs. The warm hand is expected, but still a shock, forcing a gasp out from between Dean’s lips.

Dean leans hard against the kitchen bench as Cas starts to stroke him with intent. Cas is pressing in close to him, pushing him into the kitchen bench with his body, and Dean can feel Cas’s own reflected arousal pressing into his thigh. Dean can’t think about that right now though, not when Cas is thumbing at the head of his cock, collecting the fluid pooling there, and using that to smooth the movement of his fist. Dean can’t think of anything except the strokes of Cas’s fist, and Dean is  _ gone _ , muscles locking up and he arches forward, forehead bumping into Cas’s shoulder as his cock gives one more twitch, before he’s coming over Cas’s fingertips.

Cas strokes him gently through it, easing off the pressure. Dean mouths against Cas’s shoulder as his hand slows down, before Cas eases off completely, pulling his hand away. Dean’s breath is still coming back to him when he realises that Cas is still thrusting into his hip. 

“Let me.”

Dean shifts them, pulling Cas into him with one arm, and pushing his hips out with the other. Dean slips his hand into Cas’s own pajama pants and wrapping his fingers around Cas’s cock, _ already so hard, _ and he gives a tight squeeze.

Cas’s gasps are hot and heavy against his ear, and Dean strokes him, his hand firm and fast. Dean doesn’t have the patience for slow, and judging by Cas’s gasps. It’s a joint effort — Dean strokes, and Cas is pushing up into his hand. Cas’s breaths are coming faster, gasps which sound like music to his ears and when Cas’s breathing stutters, his hips follow, coming hot over Dean’s fingers.

Dean wipes his hand on the pants, before wrapping his arms around Cas. He drags Cas in, pulling him in tight and placing a kiss against his hair. 

Cas shuffles in his arms, hugging Dean close and when he’s pulling back, Dean spots the batter on his finger. It’s too late to do anything about it, but he watches as Cas slips the finger into his mouth. Dean’s eyes are transfixed, locked on Cas’s mouth — and he sees Cas’s tongue flick out to clean off the pancake mix. 

He can’t contain his groan.

“Tastes good,” Cas says, Dean groans again. He can’t look away — he knows Cas is doing this on purpose, long licks of his finger and  _ damn _ how is that so hot.

“You wanna taste?” Cas asks.

Dean doesn’t really, but he finds himself nodding along anyway, and opening his mouth to accept Cas’s finger. The batter is almost gone but Dean licks at the finger anyway, cleaning it off until there isn’t even a trace of the batter remaining.

“It does taste good,” Dean agrees, when Cas pulls his finger from Deans mouth, tracing along his lips, then along his jaw, and Dean uses the opportunity to lean forward, pushing their lips together. He can feel the sticky sweetness of the batter on Cas’s lips, and he licks lightly at that too, cleaning the batter off, before breaking the kiss. He can still taste the batter and that distinct taste of  _ Cas _ on his tongue when he licks his own lips. “It’ll taste even better if you let me use this amazing kitchen to cook them though.”

Cas huffs a laugh at that.

“Okay Chef,” he says with a nod of his head. “Show me what you got.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](http://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com/)


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